Page 50 of Lowering His Guard

“Fine. I’ll say it. To the bootleggers!”

He shakes his head at me, but his lips are turned up. He’s amused. He just doesn’t want to show it. Probably doesn’t want his grumpy reputation to be ruined.

“Come on.” I motion him toward the beach. “Let’s walk on the beach.”

His nose wrinkles. “On the sand?”

“Isn’t walking on the sand the best? The feeling of the sand between your toes can’t be beat.” I sigh. “Except for the feeling of riding a massive wave. The exhilaration is amazing. The wind in your face. Your board under your feet.”

When we reach the beach, I pause to kick off my shoes. I bend over to pick them up but Brock grunts and elbows me out of the way. As if I’m going to complain about a man carrying my shoes.

“Why aren’t you a pro surfer?” he asks once we’re strolling next to the water.

“Dude.” I scowl. “I am a professional.”

“I meant why aren’t you on the pro surfer circuit?”

“I was, but then my mom got sick.” I shiver as I recount those years. I don’t want to experience anything similar to those times in my life again. Living with the constant fear of losing someone you love is brutal.

“Lin was sick? She’s a bundle of energy now.”

“She’s always been full of energy except for when she was sick. Then…”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Brock grasps my hand and laces his fingers through mine. I cling to him. His warmth. His strength. It gives me the courage to continue.

“I was in Bali for a competition when Dad called with the news. Breast cancer. I ditched my surfboard and hitched a ride to the airport.” I bark out a laugh. “I nearly boarded the plane in my wetsuit and bare feet.”

He shakes his head. “Only you.”

“Yeah, well, apparently you have to wear shoes on a plane, and they frown upon wetsuits. Anyway, I came home and helped Dad manage the restaurant while he cared for Mom. When Hudson came back to the island and built the resort, he offered me the position of surfing instructor. It was the perfect chance. I can still surf, but I’m near my family. I’m never leaving the island.”

“Did you grow up here?”

I shake my head. “I wish. We moved here when I was a teenager so I could train with a famous surfer who used to live here. In fact…” I stop to scan the area. “His shack used to be right over there.” I indicate the small pile of rocks.

He squints. “Is there a mermaid on a surfboard on top of the rocks?”

I grin. “Yep. Amos was born and raised a smuggler. He loved all the mermaid lore.”

He nods to my drink. “As do you.”

“Mermaids are cool. Imagine being able to stay in the water all the time. To live in the water. Deep in the ocean.”

“You really love the water.”

It’s not a question but I answer anyway. “Yep. What about you? What do you love? Besides Jace, of course.”

“Football.”

I roll my eyes. “Figures.”

“Working out.”

“Working out?” I wrinkle my nose. “You enjoy it?”

“I enjoy how it makes me feel. How strong it makes my body. How I can climb stairs or run after Jace without fighting for breath. How healthy I feel.”

“Wow. You really do love it.”